


In Every Sense Of The Word

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:05:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short oneshot. Episode 07x02. Sam is the devil's bitch.</p>
<p>"Sam stared up at the ceiling and shifted around until he felt comfortable. Sleep was surprisingly coming to him, and Sam was happy for it. It would be nice to get out of reality for a while.</p>
<p>He should have probably seen the flaw in that logic from a mile away.</p>
<p>Meat hooks, chains, fire… Lucifer had been creative, but this was going to a whole new level. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Every Sense Of The Word

**Author's Note:**

> Short oneshot. So... This was written at 12 am in response to one line in 07x02. I haven't written fanfiction in ages, and I sure as hell thought I'd write Destiel first but apparently I'm very... very wrong. This is not so much something I ship as something that just... hit me.

"You're still in my cell. You're my bunkmate buddy. You're my little bitch in _every_ sense of the term, Sam." The words unfurled from Lucifer's mouth like a heavy smoke that wrapped around Sam's senses, blinding him for a moment.

He could taste them, smell them… feel them. The words smelt like sulphur and clung to his skin like a sticky sweat.

Sam swallowed heavily and heaved in breaths quickly. He didn't want to think about what he meant by that. God-… well… Castiel forbid any images rushed to supply his words with graphic depictions. Stomach-churning and insides tightening, Sam barely heard Dean calling for him. 

"Sam! Sam!" Dean chanted as he shook his collar and tried to drag him back. What… What the hell was going on? Sam's eyes flashed from Dean's worried eyes to around the room. Where-… Lucifer had been there a moment ago. Dean's face was tired, and Sam searched it for a defect. If Lucifer was right there had to be something to prove it. 

But Dean's face still had the ever present five o'clock shadow, and the hair that no matter the disaster still stayed obnoxiously perfect. Every scar, every freckle that Sam had memorized after years of being around Dean were there. Not even Lucifer was that good… He couldn't be.

"I'm okay." Sam insisted, putting his hand against Dean's shoulder to straighten himself out. "I'm okay." He repeated, running a hand through his shaggy hair and pulling. Maybe if he said it enough he'd start to believe it. Then again, no matter how many times he'd said that in the past few years… well… it hadn't done him much good.

It settled his nerves long enough to watch a Levathian-laced Cas drown himself in the water supply, and it was almost enough to get him back to Bobby's without becoming a paranoid mess. 

"Take the couch, you look like hell." Dean picked up a pillow and slugged it over to the couch before reaching for the whiskey. At this point it was becoming weird to see Dean without the whiskey.

"Why hell?" Sam bristled up immediately before shrinking back a little when Dean raised an eyebrow over his glass. He cleared his throat. "I mean… yeah. Yeah… it's been a long," Sam shook his head laughing lightly when long didn't even describe it, "long day."

"No shit." Dean frowned against his glass before tilting it back.

As Sam slumped onto the cough he stared up at the ceiling. "What about you? How are you doing?"

Sam didn't need to look up to know Dean was pouring another glass. "Fine."

He said fine but only a foot away from the whiskey bottle was Cas' coat and he hadn't let it anywhere out of his sight since. It was silly to keep it, but Sam guessed he was waiting for Cas to pop back so he could hand it back to him. It had always bothered him, that whole "profound bond" thing. Cas always favoured Dean and while it annoyed Sam to no end, he just couldn't understand Cas the way Dean did. But he could see it so painfully now in the way Dean winced at the whiskey more than usual as if he just needed an excuse to let pain touch his face.

"I know Cas was special to you. He was like a brother to-"

" _Sam_." Dean said darkly, a warning clear in his tone. "I said I'm fine," he took another hit, "so I'm fine. Leave it at that."

Sam nodded slowly. He knew not to push it, this wasn't one of those times he had to keep prodding until Dean gave in. The conversation was very clearly over. "Alright." He didn't need to voice it, but Dean knew by his own tone that he would be there to talk to when he was ready. 

He stayed by the whiskey for a while longer before sweeping it up and going to find another couch to sleep on. Sam noticed that the trench coat went with him through sleep bleary eyes.

Sam stared up at the ceiling and shifted around until he felt comfortable. Sleep was surprisingly coming to him, and Sam was happy for it. It would be nice to get out of reality for a while.

He should have probably seen the flaw in that logic from a mile away.

Meat hooks, chains, fire… Lucifer had been creative, but this was going to a whole new level. 

"Let me go!" Sam shouted as he writhed up against the leather straps holding him down. He was completely naked under them and with the assortment of tools spread across another rock… that was worrying. Lucifer was hanging by the entrance to the damp, cold cave. Hell took on whatever form Lucifer wanted, and it seemed today it was a cave. He wasn't out of hell though, Sam knew by the heat he felt and the sweat beading all over his body. No matter what scenery Lucifer cloaked hell in… it would always be a few degrees below burning. 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Lucifer chided him as he sucked back on a cigarette and strolled over the cave's stalagmites. "How many times have we been over this now Sam? I'm beginning to lose count. Is it… twenty thousand, or only nineteen? My memory is getting a little blurred." He smiled in a way that in any other situation could only be described as charming, quaint even.

"Then say it one more time you bastard." Sam spat at him as he bowed up against the straps holding him down against the rock bed. He pulled and yanked until he collapsed back, huffing. "Let me go!"

"You know…" Lucifer said quietly as he strolled up closer and tapped a bit of ash on the dip in Sam's chest, making him grimace. "I liked you a lot better before you thought you went topside. Pliant, submissive… broken." He rubbed absently at his eye and shrugged.

That took Sam by surprise. Top side? This… This wasn't a flashback? Was this new?

"No. It's not." Lucifer responded to his thoughts, nodding. "More me reminding you of all the fun we had." He sucked on the cigarette and then rolled it around in his long fingers as he thought. "Dunhill." Lucifer finally said with a smile. 

Like hell he cared what brand he was using. 

"Oh, but Sam it burns quite nicely. You should always appreciate a good brand." And he leaned down to extinguish it right where the ashes had fallen on Sam's chest.

Searing pain filled him and Sam pulled against the restraints to the point he heard things popping somewhere unnatural in his body. "You.. You son of a bitch!" Sam shouted, ignoring the way he bit the cigarette between his lips and started to lazily undo his pants. No. No, no, no. Not that. Not that. "What are you- you wouldn't!"

Another hand wrapped around his chin, and it was someone Sam had never seen. Then there was another, and another. Sam squirmed in his confinements desperately.

"Like an animal in a trap." Lucifer sighed as he flicked his cigarette away, looking bored.

The hands were prying at legs and Sam was going to slit the throats of every last demon who was in on this. He would find them and hunt them down personally, skin them alive with the knife.

Lucifer rolled his eyes at the thought and snapped his fingers. The demons pulled his legs back and refastened them so they were bent in half. Sam stared at the ceiling, silently begging for someone to stop it. Lucifer came forward… Sam felt ill and he tried to turn his face away as he saw his cock hanging there.

"No one's going to stop us Sam. You're my little bitch remember? In _every_ sense of the term."

Sam shouted in agony as something forced it's way into him.

"Sammy? Sammy… Whoa!"

Sam flung up from the couch, sweating through his clothes to the point they could have been wrung. He blinked back, turning his head every which way in search of the demons. Instead of black there were green eyes staring back at him, Dean's.

Oh thank god. Sam collapsed back onto the couch, shaking a little. He sucked in a breath as the power bar and water bottle were held out to him. "That's twelve hours straight… I'm calling that rested. Here… hydrate and uh… protein." Dean held it out and Sam accepted it. It was just a dream, just a horrible, disgusting dream. It was okay…. 

It was then he saw Lucifer sitting on the desk, smiling sweetly back at him. 

It wasn't okay.


End file.
